


Welcome to the family

by thefirecrest



Series: Hughie gets fucked [2]
Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Billy can be mean, Creampie, Dom/sub Undertones, Espionage, Established Billy Butcher/Hughie Campbell, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, No Beta, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, PWP without Porn, Praise Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Whump Hughie, maybe not so much comfort, poor becca, we post like illiterates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 13:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20447975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefirecrest/pseuds/thefirecrest
Summary: After the end of season 1, Hughie by all means should forget about Billy Butcher forever and move on with his life. But he can't. Instead Hughie goes off on a solo mission to find Butcher all on his own. When he does find Butcher he also find trouble along the way.Or the one in which Hughie gets fucked by Homelander, and Billy (sorta) has to watch.





	Welcome to the family

**Author's Note:**

> My second smut in a week after not having written any in years. I'm shocked.
> 
> But these ships bring out the worst (best?) in me. And also I got inspired by the fuck, i love you, i love you series by CookieMonstersRUs.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Mallory takes one look at them and smirks. Billy staunchly ignores the look but Hughie has to duck his head in embarrassment. Why? He can’t say. Perhaps because this was the mythical boss the boys always alluded to. Perhaps because not even Frenchie or Mother’s Milk had yet noticed his and Butcher’s relationship, if it can even be called that. Whatever the reason though, Hughie is abashed as he follows the two towards the edge of Mallory’s property.

And later, with a knowing look, Mallory warns him to distance himself from the burning vengeance that has long since consumed Butcher’s life. Butcher watches on in stony silence when Mallory tells him, “Be careful, kid. You may love him but don’t trick yourself for a second into thinking he feels the same way. The Billy Butcher today is no longer capable of such an emotion.”

Hughie only laughs nervously in response, “Love-? I don’t-” He glances back at Butcher who continues to stare at them with that hard unreadable expression. His thoughts are a mystery to Hughie even if his eyes burns with an indiscernible fire. Sometimes he feels like he’s gotten closer to the enigmatic and chaotic man. But is that true or is he just fooling himself? Does Hughie even know anything about the man he’s been sleeping and working with? He swallows hard, “Our relationship isn’t like that.”

The glint in Mallory’s eye tell him that she isn’t fooled by his claim at all.

As they leave, Hughie hesitantly glances back only to have Butcher roughly grab his arm and drag him off to the car.

Later, they argue after passing by their compromised hideout. Hughie wants to rescue Frenchie, Mother’s Milk, and Kimoko but Butcher, as Mallory said, would rather prioritize his vengeance than save their friends. Butcher then kicks him out of the car and they continue their argument in an abandoned parking lot.

When Butcher pushes him against the side of the car in a fit a fury, Hughie thinks for a moment that the man is going to kiss him. Hughie still isn’t sure if he wants him to or not. But then Butcher backs off and glares at him with hate Hughie has only seen him reserve for supes.

“You’re a pathetic cunt, Hughie,” Butcher spits at him. “And you’re a fucking insult to Robin’s memory.”

Hughie clenches his teeth at that and suddenly no longer wants Billy to kiss him at all. “So that’s it, huh? When it comes to your vengeance the rest of us are just nothing? Is that it?”

“That’s right,” Billy says. “And you least of all, Hughie. You can fuck off and die for all I care. Go on back to that blonde supe cunt of yours. You think I give a shit about any of you? You’re bloody dreaming, kid.”

Some part of him knows that Billy is just saying that. It’s the same part of him that lays there content, after a long night of being thoroughly fucked into the bed, while Butcher traces circles into his back under the impression that Hughie is sleeping. But another part of him, the louder part, screams that Butcher is telling the truth. That he really does mean less than dirt to the man despite all those months they’ve spent together. Despite Hughie risking his life time after time for Butcher.

But that’s just it, isn't it? He was useful. That’s all he’s ever been to Billy. A useful tool. A convenient fuck. A warm body to utilize, be that for a dangerous mission or filling an empty bed.

Hughie watches as Butcher drives away and despite everything he’s told himself about their not-relationship, it still hurts.

~*~

After the entire ordeal with Annie and A-Train, Hughie sits alone in a park and just stares down at Billy’s contact in his phone. The blue light cuts through the darkness of night blindingly. His thumb hovers over the call button no less than 10 times before he finally gives up and leans back into the hard bench with a sigh.

The rest of the gang are back at a hotel room Frenchie’s contact managed to hook them up with. They aren’t staying long though and are planning on leaving at dawn and getting out of state. It’s a good plan but... they haven’t heard from Butcher yet.

Hughie knows the rest of them couldn’t care less if Billy contacted them or not. The man had left them to rot, afterall. By all logic, Hughie shouldn’t care either. But he does. He doesn’t want to but he does all the same. He wants to know where Billy went. Wants to know that the gruff man is still alive and kicking. He can only hope the bastard didn’t try face Homelander on his lonesome.

The phone is warm in his hand from being handled for so long. It’s weight is a steady reminder of the choice he has before him.

Leave or stay?

He really has nothing left for him in this city. Robin isn’t here anymore. Annie, while a close friend, would probably be safer without him nearby anyway. His father is safe in CIA custody. And Butcher…

Billy didn’t want him around. Even if he was lying about not giving a fuck about Hughie, the man didn’t love him. Not like Hughie, now admittedly, loved the man. He hadn’t meant to let his feelings get this out of control but here he is. Sitting alone on a park bench at night wondering if he should sacrifice what he has left in his life for a man who will never love him back.

Hughie laughs to himself humorlessly. He notes with passing interest that a lot of important events seem to happen on park benches.

In the end he pulls up Billy’s contact again and dials the number before he can change his mind.

The receiver picks up after two rings.

But the voice that answers is not Billy.

“Hello!” Comes a familiar jovial voice. It’s a voice that Hughie has heard a million times in his lifetime, mostly over television and only once in person. It’s a voice that sends a cold dreading shiver up his spine. “And who might I be speaking with?”

He hits the end call button before he can even register what happened. Then Hughie spends the next several minutes just staring down at his phone in shock.

It takes another couple more before he finally makes his decision.

~*~

He won’t go into how he finds the house as it involves weeks of arduous searching and disheartening deadends. It starts with Frenchie and Mother’s Milk trying fruitlessly to persuade him to leave with them but with him declining. It ends with a lot of blackmail and Hughie driving down a picturesque countryside road several states over.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to find here. All he knows is that Butcher’s supposedly untraceable phone was pinged somewhere in this county and that Homelander had been reported travelling in this direction for the past few weeks. He also knows that Madelyn Stillwell’s home was found reduced to rubble in a fiery explosion on par with the explosives Hughie knows Butcher had. He knows that the only casualties found were Stillwell herself and her infant newborn.

The last fact still has Hughie’s stomach churning. Is Billy capable of murdering a child? He wishes he could say the answer is no, but his suspicions say otherwise.

It doesn’t matter much in the end. He’s still here, driving through an empty country side in a truck Mallory had hooked him up with, dressed in a shitty disguise, all to hopefully find and rescue a man who would never do the same for him.

Love is strange that way. Love made Hughie a killer. Love also saved his soul. Love is the driving force behind his every action now. He wants to find Butcher. Wants to see him alive and angry, even if the man curses his name for the rest of their lives.

And then he’s driving past a house that doesn’t exist on any maps, down a road the google maps doesn’t even recognize. He can’t see much but he does spot movement in the house as his trunk rolls by. There’s woman by the window, presumably washing the dishes. He keeps on driving without hesitation, head pinned to the road ahead while his eyes dart back towards the house again and again until it’s no longer physically feasible.

He doesn’t spot Homelander or Butcher, but it’s the biggest lead he’s got.

Hughie returns a few days later in another car, dressed in another disguise. Mallory may not have wanted to help Butcher but when he had pulled up to her home and begged her, near tears, to help him save the man she had reluctantly agreed. They didn’t spend long together, no more than a week, but as Hughie has proved time and time again he’s a quick learner. He isn’t going to risk being caught-

And then he sees him. Homelander.

The supe is standing out in front of the yard surprisingly out of uniform. Hughie doesnt think he has ever seen the supe out of that ridiculous red white and blue costume before. But it’s unmistakably Homelander, dressed in flannel and jeans, standing in the front yard playing ball with a child.

Hughie is confident that his disguise will hold, but it doesn’t stop the spike of fear from shooting through him at the sight of the supe. Homelander pauses in his playing to look up at the car. Hughie feigns looking around, pretending to spot the two on accident, and waves to them in a friendly harmless manner. His heart threatens to accelerate out of his chest but Hughie had prepared or that too. Three tablets of  Metoprolol he swallowed earlier in the morning before he even dared to swing past this house again.

His smiling and waving pays off, because despite the initial murderous and red glowing stare Homelander gives him, he drives on freely. Hughie doesn’t dare return to his makeshift stay though, in case the supe follows him. He drives briefly around the nearest town and picks up groceries and stops at a few places and then drives right past the house again to feign his return. He doesn’t see Homelander on his return trip, but the terror is just as palpable as if the supe were still there, if not more.

The camera he sets up at the far end of the road tells him several days later that Homelander has left the property. He doesn’t wait before staking out.

He is going to find Butcher.

~*~

Hughie only takes his vehicle so far and stashes it behind some trees and bushes. He then begins his hike through the woods on foot, taking care to leave as little trace as possible. He’s studied Homelander’s comings and goings from the house and has deduced that the supe will likely be gone two or three days. More than enough time to get in and out of the house. However, he doesn’t want to risk leaving any trace that he was here at all.

An hour or so of walking brings him onto the edge of the quaint little home.

It has white walls and a picket fence and all the windows have these lovely laced drapes. All except for one window near the top which has been blacked out from the inside. 

It’s still daylight, but Hughie figures that it’s the best time to do this. He knows that there is a woman and a child in the house. Possibly Homelander’s secret family? But no one expects a breakin in the morning. They’ll be less on guard with the sun on their side.

Besides, Hughie is only planning on taking a quick look around.

It isn’t hard sneaking into the back door. There is no lock. No one is in the kitchen he steps into. He thinks he may hear someone walking upstairs. As he picks his way through the home Hughie begins to build a picture in his mind. That of a small loving family.

Niknaks line the shelves, toys are littered across the halls, and photos of a woman and a boy hang about. Not Homelander though. He isn’t in any of the pictures.

And then Hughie spots the scorched marks in the living room wall. He pauses and stifle a gasp. It’s not just scorched marks. The wall has been laser cut and burned at the edges by two identical beams. A new picture paints itself in Hughie’s mind. A story of a small family terrorized by a super powered monster.

He swallows and continues through the house silently.

He reaches the stairs and hesitates to go up them, but only for a moment. The movement he had heard from above previously has stopped. Now only silence prevails through the home. He wonders where the boy and woman are.

The upper floor is smaller than the lower, but still has several rooms lining the walls. Hughie passes by what looks like the boy’s room with it’s blue painted walls and posters of various superheroes. Not unlike Hughie’s old bedroom.

He notes that every door on this floor is open except for one. The one at the end. Where the blotted out window would be. He doesn’t run into anyone as he carefully makes his way to the closed room. The rooms are empty of life as he passes them. When he reaches the end of the hallway he grabs onto the doorknob and gives it an experimental twist.

It’s locked.

The door being locked doesn’t shock Hughie. What does shock him is the voice that floats out from behind the closed door.

“Peter? Kid, you know you aren’t supposed to come in here while Homelander isn’t home.”

Butcher’s voice is like a punch to his gut. All of the sudden their previous argument comes rushing back into Hughie’s ears, despite it being weeks ago, and he has to fight the sob of both relief and agony from escaping his throat. God he has missed that voice. But it still hurts to hear it. It hurts to hear Billy’s voice again.

Billy is  _ alive _ .

For whatever reason Homelander kept him alive, Billy  _ is _ alive and that’s all that matters.

There is silence behind the door and then-

“Who the fuck is there?” Comes that familiar deathly still tone. One that reeks of danger and promises of death and retribution.

Hughie opens his mouth to answer but finds his voice trapped in his throat. There’s a burst of crippling anxiety he hasn’t felt since seeing Robin’s apparition at the bowling alley. Of course, then he had Annie’s steady and calming presence to keep him grounded to reality. Here his only source of comfort and the ghost of his past are one and the same.

“Hughie…?”

All it takes is the sound of his name coming from Billy’s voice for the flood of emotions to rush through him. Hughie fights back another sob and nods despite being visually hidden behind the door.

“I’m- I’m here to get you out,” Hughie manages to whisper. The verbalized conviction is enough to get him moving again. He reaches into his bag to retrieve tools to pick the lock-

“Get the fuck out of here, Hughie,” Butcher’s voice snaps. “You think you’re helping me but you’re just going to fuck things up. How did you even-” Butcher pauses, then snarls, “Mallory.”

“She didn’t want to help,” Hughie says. He’s now attempting to pick the lock though his experience in the art is lacking. If push comes to shove he’ll just break down the door and hope Homelander doesn’t hear it from however far away he is. “Told me I’d be better off leaving you to rot. But I convinced her to.”

“Mallory is a fucking cunt. You don’t know what you’re doing, Hughie. Get the fuck out of here before you screw things up for the both of us.”

“I-” Hughie grunts as he twists his picks to no avail. “I can’t do that.”

“Hugh-”

“I’m done listening to your shit, Butcher!” He finally snaps. His fingers tremble with fury and emotion as he continues to work. “I’m so fucking done listening to any of the bullshit you have to say. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”

“Like hell I don’t,” comes the snarled reply. “You’re fucking things up for the both of us. You aren’t helping me, no matter how much your stupid little brain is telling you you are. Don’t you remember, Hughie? I don’t give a fuck about you. You were just a useful tool to me. A useful little cunt-”

“I know,” Hughie says cutting him off with a tone of defeat. He twists the picks again. One of them snaps. He sighs and hastily replaces it with a spare. “I know that. And I don’t care. Even if I don’t mean shit to you I- I’m still going to save you. You can curse me out about it later. Beat me. Never talk to me again. Whatever. But you aren’t changing my mind.”

To his surprise there is no sharp retort. Thick silence permeates the hallway but Hughie is too concentrated to let himself be phased again. Another one of his picks snap beneath his fingers. He is absolutely horrible at this. Breaking down the door is starting to sound more and more appealing of an option by the second.

There’s a sound from the stairs and Hughie freezes. He looks back down at the hallway and sees a woman staring at him with horrified eyes and the blonde head of a boy peeking out from behind her.

“I-” He starts.

“Are you here to rescue him?” She asks hastily.

Hughie hesitantly nods.

Her eyebrows furrow and her mouth thins into a hard line. She nods back and finishes climbing the stairs and marches down the hall towards him. The boy trots along after his mother. Hughie tenses when her hand reaches into her jean pocket but relaxes when he sees that she’s fished out a small key.

“Here,” she says, handing him the key when she reaches him. “Try this instead.”

“Becca?” Butcher’s voice comes back from the room.

Hughie’s eyes widen as he recognizes the name. He glances back up at the woman and takes in her features. So this is the woman that Butcher would go to hell and back, sell his soul, and damn every person he comes across to avenge. And here she is alive.

Hughie glances back down at the blonde boy and everything clicks into place.

“Becca, don’t do this,” Butcher growls, voice louder now.

Becca ignores him completely, her attention solely on Hughie. “Get him out of here,” she says to him. “Don’t let him come back. Take him far  _ far _ away and hide. Please.” He can see in her eyes that she is utterly sincere.

She loves Billy like he does, Hughie realizes.

Whatever jealousy he might’ve momentarily felt disappears in a flash of kinship.

Hughie nods and tries to project the same intensity of sincerity back. “I will. I promise.”

He unlocks the door and they head in. The sight that greets Hughie scares him.

“We’re going to have to get him down the stairs together,” Becca says then pauses. “Or…” She looks back at her son. “Peter. Could you help Mommy bring Uncle Billy downstairs, please?”

The boy, Peter, glances between the three of them with uncertainty. He looks at Hughie with particular suspicion though. “Why? Who is this guy? Why is he taking Uncle Billy away? Shouldn’t we wait for Dad?”

“Uncle Billy isn’t feeling well, honey,” Becca says. “His friend is here to take him to get some help.”

It was an understatement. Since entering the room, Hughie hasn’t been able to tear his eyes away from the horror that is lying in bed. It’s Billy alright. But, peeking from beneath his blanket, Butcher’s legs are crushed, broken, mangled beyond recognition.They’re bandaged but the bandages are bloody. Even Hughie, who once held the love of his life’s severed hands in his own, who blew up a man from the inside out, feels sick staring at the savage mutilation. The mere fact that Butcher can even hold a coherent thought with that kind of injury is...

Becca catches him staring.

“He tried to smuggle us out,” she explains, voice choking. “He- Homelander, he hurt Billy in retaliation. He keeps him here as a-”

“As a fucking reassurance to keep her in line,” Butcher finishes. His hard eyes are locked onto Hughie. “Do you get it now, Hughie? I’m here to keep her in line and I  _ can’t _ leave her. Now get the fuck out of here before-”

“Shut up,” Hughie says. “Shut up. Are you serious right now? The Butcher I knew wouldn’t just… Sit here like some sort of limp ragdoll to be used by a bastard supe.”

Butcher glares hatefully at him. “Don’t kid yourself, Hughie. You never knew me.”

“Maybe not,” he admits. “But I know he’d never just let himself be used like this. Wouldn’t just lay in a bed like a pathetic fuck. This is bullshit, Butcher. Are you just going to let that supe bastard use you as a weapon against your wife-”

“Shut the fuck up about things you don’t know shit about, Hughie,” Butcher growls.

“Or what?” Hughie challenges back. “You gonna crawl out of bed on those mangled sticks of yours and make me shut up-”

“Enough!” Becca snaps. “Bicker later. We don’t have time for this. Settle-” She glances between them and a familiar knowing glint enters her eyes, “-whatever this is later. When you’re both safely out of here. Before Homela-”

There’s a loud boom from out of the window. The sound of something moving fast enough to break the sound barrier. The three adults in the room freeze.

“He shouldn’t be back so soon. Maybe it’s just a jet-” Becca begins but her son, Peter, is already rushing down the stairs at an inhuman speed. The sudden show of power shocks Hughie, though on some level he already knew the truth.

“Dad’s home!” Peter shouts excitedly, disappearing down the stairs.

Becca and Hughie exchange horrified expressions.

“We…”

“Get under the blanket, Hughie.”

They both look up at Butcher with confusion and the man just rolls his eyes at them. “Get under the fucking blanket before I change my mind, asshole.”

Hughie doesn’t need to be told twice. He tosses his bag beneath the bed climbs beneath the blanket, pressing close against Butcher’s body, being very careful with Butcher’s mutilated legs. He tries his best to squash down the feelings of warmth that blooms in his chest at being so close to the man again. His efforts are in vain.

Butcher grabs onto his wrist beneath the blanket and Hughie feels a thumb press up again his inner wrist, where his pulse is.

“I’m going to sync my heart rate up to yours. And I need you to regulate your breathing to mine.” Butcher whispers gruffly down at him. “Now shut the fuck up before you get us all killed.”

Hughie keeps his mouth shut tight. He closes his eyes and listens closely to Butcher’s steady breathing. He hears Becca quickly shuffle out of the room and lock the door behind her. There is shuffling from downstairs as they lay there in heavy silence. The metallic scent of blood from Butcher’s wounds reaches his nose. The entire situation is claustrophobic and unpleasant. But somehow, being able to touch Billy again, being able to feel physically that the man is still alive, steadies Hughie’s nerves.

The door is suddenly thrown open.

“Billy! How are you doing, my man?”

“Just dandy, fuckface,” Butcher replies irritably, not even a hint of deceit in his tone.

Hughie hears Homelander chuckle from the doorway and pace casually into the room. He’s both shocked and utterly unsurprised at the casual insults Butcher hurls at the dangerous supe. What’s more surprising is that Homelander doesn’t retaliate. Hughie can still remember the look the supe gave to him while he was practically being drowned. He fights back a shiver.

“You want to hear something interesting, Billy?” Homelander asks.

“Not really. No.”

“Are you sure?” Homelander asks. “You see. I was on my way back to New York when I… Well- I caught sight of the most  _ peculiar _ little thing.” Hughie feels his breath nearly stutter and his heart rate attempt to pick up. Butcher squeezes his wrist in warning and Hughie has to force himself to relax by breathing in Butcher’s familiar comforting scent, even as tinged with blood as it is currently.

“You see this?”

Hughie cannot see what is going on, but he feels something solid being thrown onto the comforter.

“What about it?” Butcher snaps.

“It’s a camera. A camera that I found,” Homelander explains. Hughie’s stomach drops. “I would’ve missed it if not for the sun catching the glare on it at just the right angle. The little bastard was hidden pretty well too. And so I thought ‘this must be one of Vaught’s security measures to keep an eye on their most important assets’.”

Butcher shifts and sighs exasperated, “Isn’t it? What the fuck does this have to do with me?”

“I’m  _ getting there _ .” And for the first time since he stepped into the room, Homelander’s voice turns sharp and dangerous. “Don’t interrupt me, Billy. We wouldn’t want a repeat of last time do we?”

“If you want Becca freaking out at you again, then sure. Be my fucking guest,” Butcher challanges back without missing a beat.

There is silence for a moment and then a deep chuckle full of dark humour fills the room.

“You see.  _ This  _ is why I like you so much, Billy. But no, there is a very good reason why I’m telling you this. Because I did make it back to New York.”

The fact makes Hughie’s head nearly go dizzy. How can any human possibly be so fast? So powerful? Homelander left barely 3 hours ago. How the hell is he back already?

“So I asked around,” Homelander continues. “You should know how it goes, Billy. A little blackmail and intimidation here, a little maiming over there. May have killed a particularly annoying secretary, but who’s to say?Just enough to get the truth to come trickling out. And you know how much I love the truth.”

“Get to the fucking point, you narcissistic ass.”

“Tisk tisk. So impatient. But fine,” Homelander says. “You see, Billy. What I found out is that this camera doesn’t belong to Vaught. In fact, if my little researching adventure is correct, this is actually a CIA grade surveillance camera. Now who do you know that could get their hands on such a thing?”

“Hell if I know,” Butcher snaps. “Is that all you had to bother me with? Because this was a colossal waste of time.”

“Was is? Because, Billy, I  _ really _ don’t think it was.”

Homelander’s emphasis and dark mocking tone are all the warning Hughie gets when a hand wraps around his ankle and rips him from beneath the comforter. He lets out a gasp and is suddenly hanging upside down disorientated.

“And what do we have here? A little-” Homelander pauses, then laughs. “I know you. You’re Starlight’s little human friend.” He gives Hughie a little shake like he’s some small animal he’s caught instead of a person. It rattles Hughie’s brain, leaving his even dizzier than before. “Did you come here to rescue poor poor Billy?”

“Put him down, Homelander,” Butcher snaps.

“Oh my god,” Becca’s voice floats in from the hallway. “Homel-”

“ _ Shut. Up. _ ” Homelander snaps, eyes turning red for a brief moment. Then in a softer, yet somehow more dangerous tone, continues, “This doesn’t concern you, Becca. Go back downstairs and go make Junior some hot chocolate or something. I frankly don’t give a fuck. I’ll deal with you and your insubordination later,  _ Mommy.  _ Now let us boys finish up our conversation. Hm?”

Becca hesitates for a second but makes her way back down the stairs. She turns back briefly and her eyes momentarily meet Hughie’s. There’s a moment where they share an unspoken connection, whatever it is. He can tell she’s praying for him. But Hughie doesn’t see how he’s going to make it out of here alive. No one but Mallory knows he’s here anyway.

Once she’s out of sight Homelander lets out a satisfied sigh and smiles down at Hughie.

“Now then. Where were we?”

~*~

Homelander doesn’t leave Hughie hanging upside down for long, which he’s thankful for. Instead he’s deposited onto the floor where Hughie assumes he isn’t to move from. It’s somewhat degrading but it beats having all his blood rushing to his skull.

_ All the more bloody for when Homelander crushes it like a grape _ , he thinks to himself hysterically. But the dark humor helps him deal with the impossibly bleak situation.

“I will say, boys,” Homelander says. “I am rather impressed. Syncing your heartbeats and breathing? Excellent detail- Of course, I’ve always been fairly impressed by your work. Translucent? Spectacular work. You lot don’t even have powers and yet you’ve managed to get the upper hand on those of us who do- Not me, of course.. Translucent was your work right, uh… Hughie, wasn’t it?”

He loves hearing the sound of his own voice, Hughie notes.

“Hughie,” Homelander says in a chastising voice. “If we’re going to get along, you’re going to have to ANSWER ME when I ask you A QUESTION.” His voice booms and the house shakes. Hughie winces in pain and when the sound dissipates there’s a ringing left in his eardrums. “Now I’m going to ask again,” Homelander continues carefully, softly. “It’s Hughie, isn’t it? Starlight’s friend. Billy-boy here’s little… Pet.”

Hughie doesn’t want to give the guy the satisfaction of an answer but for the sake of his own safety, and apparently that of Butcher and Becca’s now, he nods. “Y-yes…”

“See? Now that wasn’t too hard was it?”

There’s a beat of silence before Hughie catches on.

“N-no…”

Homelander smiles condescendingly at his obedience.

“What a good puppy,” he coos down mockingly. “You trained him well, Billy. Color me impressed. I have such a hard time keeping my flock in check sometimes. But you know how it is right? Afterall, none of you would’ve been caught if your little pets hadn’t made such a blunder at poor Mesmer’s place.”

“He’s not always so well behaved,” Butcher grunts and Hughie wants to punch him in the face.

“Is that so?” Homelander asks. “Aw. Look at the poor thing. We’ve hurt his feelings. You should be nicer to your pets, Billy. This one was loyal enough to come sniffing out his master.”

Hughie honestly cannot believe what he is hearing. He’s known for a while now that a lot of the supes have superiority complexes when it comes to “normal” people. His conversation with Translucent was proof enough of that. Annie is one of the rare exceptions he’s come to find out. He really misses her right about now.

Butcher scoffs from the bed. “Does it look like I give a fuck? The little cunt abandoned me in the end. Not that it really matters. I would’ve killed him myself if it meant easier access to killing you.”

Hughie clenches his fist. Even though he’s already come to terms with how Butcher feels about him it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it all laid out like that before him. His eyes prickle with heat, but he isn’t going to give these bastards the satisfaction of seeing him cry. He’s going to die in a few minutes anyway. Just a useful person. Nothing more than a convenient tool-

“You know, I really don’t think that’s true,” Homelander suddenly says. He makes a contemplative noise with his tongue.

“Like I give a fuck what you believe or not.”

Homelander shrugs, “Maybe. But Billy. If you really don’t care about your little pet here.” And Hughie flinches when Homelander’s gloved hand suddenly lands on top of his head as the supe begins to pet him none-too-gently. It’s patronizing and demeaning but there isn’t jackshit Hughie can do in retalation. “You wouldn’t mind if I just… I don’t know. Took cute little Hughie here outback and lasered his face in? Like I did with Madelyn. You remember right? Oh- Or better yet, why don’t I just do it here?”

Butcher rolls his eyes and makes disregarding noise. “Do it. See if I give a fuck.”

“I will see,” Homelander says. “I think we’ll all see. What say you, Hughie? Are you ready to die?”

His knee jerk reaction is to say no. No one is ready to die but… His dad is safe. Annie was fine the last he saw her. The boys are probably out of the country by now. And Billy is alive. Does he really have anything left to live for? It’s not like he really has any options anyway.

A sudden calm comes over Hughie. For the first time in his life, he fearlessly looks up into the face of death. Homelander meets his unflinching gaze. “Yeah. I am.” He says truthfully.

Homelander bursts out laughing.

“Hahaha! Billy, my man. You-” Homelander pauses to laugh some more. “You really- You really know how to pick em. Damn. This is the second time this month someone has surprised me like this. I’m frankly amazed. There is absolutely no fear there is there?”

Hughie still flinches when Homelander roughly grabs his face to examine him. Having already decided that he doesn’t have anymore fucks to give, Hughie meets Homelander’s searching eyes resolutely.

“Remarkable,” Homelander whispers, mostly to himself. He runs a thumb across Hughie’s cheek and chuckles. “Brown hair, doe eyes… You’ve got a type, Billy-boy.”

He suddenly releases Hughie’s face and turns his attention back to Butcher. “Not that it really matters, since I’m about to kill him anyway. You sure you’ve got nothing more to say about it?”

Butcher only grunts in reply.

Homelander hums. “Shame.”

Then he turns back to Hughie and grins down at him. “Look up here at me, dollface.” And his blue eyes are blotted out by two ominous glowing red lights. Hughie feels his heartbeat pick up just slightly but he continues to sits there resigned to his fate.

No. Not resigned.

He’s meeting death face on and unflinching.

“Bye, Billy,” he says into the empty room.

There’s no reply.

The intensity of the red lights grow and Hughie has to mentally sigh at the entire theatrics of it. Of course Homelander has the draw the moment out. He’s been a showman his entire life, afterall. The room grows a few degrees hotter from the radiating light and Hughie can even feel his face, where it’s in direct alignment with Homelander’s eyes, begin to heat uncomfortably. Like being under a noon sun during a particularly hot summer day.

Hughie takes a breath when he sees Homelander’s body shift just slightly. He notices vaguely, with some disgust, that the supe appears to be sporting a hard-on. The heat on his face intensifies, borderlining painful, and the red light grows so intense that Hughie has to shut his own eyes from the sheer blindingness of it.

The heat grows unbearable-

“STOP!”

And as slow as it came the radiation disappears just as quickly. Hughie lets out a breath had hadn’t known he was holding. He opens his eyes, blinking past the black spots from when he’d stared straight into Homelander’s glowing eyes. He looks up in confusion and sees that the supe has turned to face Butcher.

Butcher who is breathing heavily with the most conflicted and furious expression Hughie has ever seen on his face.

“Damn you.” Butcher spits. “Damn you to fucking hell, you supe cunt.”

Homelander just looks smug.

“I knew you weren’t going to let me go through with it,” the supe reveals. “This one isn’t like the others is he? This one is like Becca.”

“He’s nothing like Becca!” Butcher snarls.

Homelander shrugs, “Same difference. He means something to you. See, that’s the thing about you pathetic little roaches and, admittedly, even a lot of supers. You let these…  _ Feelings  _ take hold of you. Cripple you. Stop you from doing what you need to. I’m not mad though. Disappointed? Hm. Maybe. But we do get to keep sweet and loyal Hughie around, at least a little longer.”

“What the fuck do you want, Homelander.” Hughie is shocked at the defeat he hears in Butcher’s voice. The pain from his twisted legs are now starting to become apparent in the raggedness of his voice. It’s painful to listen to strong and unphasable Billy Butcher sounding so… Broken down.

“What do I want…” Homelander hums in consideration. “I want… To take care of my son. For us to be a happy little family.” The words sound wrong coming out of his mouth. Twisted, somehow. “Me, Junior, his mother, and his Uncle Billy. Just the happiest of families America has ever seen.”

Butcher glares halfheartedly at him. “And where does Hughie fit into all of this?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out. Actually... Why don’t the two of your help me out with that?”

Hughie makes a noise when Homelander suddenly grabs him by the front of his shirt. He is tossed onto the bed, right atop where Butcher’s mangled legs are. The older man grunts in pain but doesn’t make any other outward indication of discomfort. Hughie scrambles to climb off of him but Homelander pushes him back down by the center of his back, pressing his upper torso into the comforter. Hughie can feel the outline of Butcher’s disfigured legs pressing into his chest. He suddenly feels sick.

“What the fuck is this?” Butcher growls.

“This is you,” Homelander points at Butcher. “Helping me.” He points at himself. “Figure out how little Hughie here fits into our happy little family. Or… Should I go back to burning a couple of holes into his skull? I’m up for either option really.”

Hughie doesn’t really understand yet, but by the dark look on Butcher’s face the older man does.

Hughie tries to push up again and Homelander presses him even harder into the bed. So hard that Hughie can feel his lungs compress painfully, making breathing slightly more uncomfortable. The metallic scent of Billy’s blood invades his nose once again.

“Now you see, Billy.” Homelander says moving about behind Hughie, just out of his sight, though the supe keeps one hand there to hold him down. “You have a type. Not surprising. Most people do. Yours just happen to be cute mousy individuals with sweet doe eyes. And the thing is…”

Hughie gasps when Homelander suddenly covers Hughie’s body with his own, pressing his torse flush with Hughie’s spine. The edges and buttons on his costume dig into Hughie’s back.. Homelander’s face appears in his right peripheral vision, blonde hair tickling at his temple, and his lips pressed almost to his ear.

“The thing is, Billy,” Homelander says, mouth moving along Hughie’s ear, his breath hot and wet. “We’re more similar than you think. We even have... the  _ same type _ . Why do you think I took such a shining to Becca?”

It’s then that Hughie understands Butcher’s dark expression.

He renews his struggles.

Homelander delivers a crippling slap to the side of his thigh. It might’ve been sexy had this been a consensual encounter and had this been anyone but Homelander, but instead the blow from the supe’s inhuman strength causes Hughie’s bones to creek beneath the stress and pain, that will undoubtedly be a giant bruise come morning, blooms across his skin. Hughie cries out.

“Stop being a naughty boy, Hughie,” Homelander chastises him. “Don’t make me spank you. And trust me, sweetheart, you won’t like  _ my _ spanks. So are you going to behave?”

Hughie just gasps in pain and shock at the utterly unexpected situation. Is Homelander seriously going to… Going to rap-

“Hughie. What did we already talk about answering when I ask you a question?”

“I-I’ll behave…” Hughie manages to get out. He stops thrashing.

“Good boy,” Homelander whispers into his ear and presses a gentle kiss to his temple.

Butcher snarls at the entire scene, “What the fuck is this, you bloody bastard! Stop this. This is completely unnecessary-!”

“Oh I think it’s plenty necessary, Billy.” Homelander says. “Besides. Look at poor Hughie. He looks like he hasn’t been laid in such a long time. You haven’t been taking good care of your pets, Billy. You can’t blame me to stepping in and picking up the slack.”

Homelander removes his gloves and tosses them to the side. He slips his hands, which are hot, hotter than normal human hands, beneath Hughie’s shirt and runs his fingers sensually up his torso, tracing each rib bone with a lover’s caress. Despite the heat, Hughie still shivers. Homelander chuckles at that, “So sensitive. Tell me, Hughie. Butcher taught you a lot of things, but did he teach you to be a good little slut? Don’t forget, I want an answer.”

Hughie bites his bottom lip and squeezes his eyes shut. He can feel Butcher’s gaze burning into him, more intense than even the laser vision that should’ve killed him several minutes ago. He fights back a whine when Homelander’s hands gives his chest a warning squeeze.

“I- I’m not-”

“You’re not what, Hughie? You’re going to have to speak up. You’re not what? Not a slut?” A hand moves from his chest to grip at Huughie’s chin and a finger presses and forces it’s way past his lips. “You’re reactions beg to differ. I bet Billy-boy here trained you real good, right?”

“I-” But he’s choking around the salty finger.

“Don’t  _ lie  _ to me, Hughie. Billy will tell you perfectly well how much I hate lies.”

Hughie wants to sob. Wants to sob so badly. He can feel Homelander pressing into him from above and Butcher pressing into him from below. He hadn’t prepared for this when he came here. He was prepared to die. He was not prepared for this-

“ _ Hughie _ ,” comes the warning.

_ Just tell him what he wants to hear.  _ “Y-yes. Butcher taught me to be hi-his s… His slut.”

“Good boy,” is purred into his ear.

“God damnit. Stop this Homelander!” Butcher shouts. “He has nothing to do with this!”

But Homelander just ignores him. He reaches down and pulls Hughie’s shirt off and tosses it over to where his threw his gloves. He takes a moment to just admire the pale expanse of Hughie’s back, removing his finger from Hughie’s mouth and running it down his spine, leaving a thin trail of excess saliva, causing the younger man shiver again. Then he starts on Hughie’s pants, taking only a moment to attempt to pull them off normally, before giving up and just using brute strength to rip the denim apart. The sound of ripping fabric fills the room, the audio potent and terrifying.

The sudden exposure to air causes Hughie to gasp. The tattered remains of his jeans and underwear are discarded to the side leaving Hughie only in his socks, still pressed face down on top of the crippled Butcher. Behind him, he hears Homelander begin to disrobe himself.

“Fuck, Hughie…” And Hughie glances up in shock. Butcher is looking at him with such a vulnerable expression. His expressive eyes are red with unshed tears. “I’m- I’m sorry, mate- I… I never wanted-”

“It’s okay,” he whispers back.

“You know I can hear everything the two of you are saying, right?” Homelander quips from behind. “It’s not nice to be so secretive amongst family, even if I can hear everything regardless. Now then… Where were we?”

The bed dips on either side of Hughie and Homelander grabs onto both of his asscheeks, taking a moment to just massage and admire them. Then he pulls them apart and runs a thumb over Hughie’s exposed pink orifice. No one has touched him there in months and the sensation makes Hughie gasp in, to his chagrin, pleasure.

“So so sensitive,” Homelander comments. “You’re lucky I keep some lube in the house. Becca gets rather catty with me when I go in dry.”

Butcher releases a feral yell and surges forward, attempting to punch him.

Homelander just laughs and moves out of the way, “Whoa there, champ. Hughie isn’t the only one who needs to behave.” A hand settles on Hughie’s shoulder. “I need you to pipe down for a minute so I can prepare him. Keep that up and I’ll break his collarbone instead and fuck him anyway. Your choice, Billy.”

Hughie can see that it takes everything in Butcher just to physically restrain himself and back down. The man settles back into his pillow back, still breathing hard, his entire body tensed and wired up.

“Now then, back to business.” There’s a familiar pop of a bottle and a squirt cold liquid down Hughie’s ass. And then Homelander is pressing his fingers back into that space. He rubs an index finger over Hughie’s anus for a minute and then presses in. Hughie gasps and then lets out a long whine.

“So tight.” The hot finger moves in and out of his hole rougher than Hughie is use to, but the absence of such attention has made his body extra sensitive to pleasure. Each push and pull sends a spike of pleasure right to his cock which is quickly becoming interested in the situation. Behind him, Hughie can feel Homelander’s interest growing large and hot as well.

One finger quickly becomes two as the supe preps him, stretching the bounds of his hole with quick trusts, wet scissors, and curls in attempts to find his prostate. Before long, Homelander is thrusting four fingers snugly into Hughie’s hole. The heat radiating from his hand is nearly unbearable and Hughie can only imagine what it’s going to be like when it’s replaced with his cock.

“Aw. Are you feeling a bit neglected there, Billy?”

Hughie suddenly remembers through his haze of pleasure that Butcher is still there. He glances up and realizes with guilt that the older man is in considerable pain, with his face scrunched and sweat beading across his skin. Not surprising considering that Hughie has been writhing like a slut over his mangled legs for the past several minutes. The realization causes shame to flood through him and Hughie tries his best to stay still. It’s a little difficult with Homelander thrusting his hand into his ass so forcefully, dragging his fingers across Hughie’s soft inner walls.

“Come on, Hughie. Be nice and give poor ol’ Billy a little pick me up.”

Hughie doesn’t understand what he means by that. He whines again when the fingers pull suddenly and fast from within him, leaving him gaping and empty.

“W-what?” Is all he can manage past his breathlessness. His entire body feels flushed and high and buzzed with pleasure.

Homelander shakes his head, “Tisk tisk, Hughie. It should be obvious. Go on and take Billy-boy’s cock out and suck on it like the good boy you promised to be.”

Hughie’s eyes widen and he meets Billy’s in horror. He- He doesn’t want to do that. Not like this. God he missed Billy. He misses Billy so much. Hughie would love nothing more than to lavish the man with attention, sexual or otherwise but… Not like this. Not when the man is in clear agony. Not when he’s about to be raped over him like some cheap dollar whore.

“Please-” He begins but Homelander cuts him off.

“You’ll suck his cock or I’ll break his arm, Hughie.”

“Hughie. Mate, don’t-” Comes Butcher’s pained gasp.

But Hughie is already on the move, fingers dancing over Bucher’s shorts, careful not to jostle his legs. He shifts himself so his weight is mostly on his knees and elbows. Or as much as he can do so with Homelander hovering so close above him. Then he pulls down Butcher’s zipper and fumbled for his cock.

Butcher is rock hard when Hughie pulls him out.

“Ha! See what I told you, Hughie? Billy-boy was feeling left out,” Homelander mocks. “And Billy. I thought you said you didn’t care.  _ Something  _ tells me otherwise.”

“Shut the- Fuck up.”

Determined to make this experience as least unpleasant as he can make it for Butcher, Hughie grips the base of Butcher’s cock and gives the purpling tip an experimental kitten lick. The reaction is immediate and Hughie watches with captivated interest as Billy’s eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and the man hisses out from the contact. He gives the cock in his hands another lick, and another, then he starts from the base near the balls and runs the flat of his tongue all the way from there to the top.

Homelander lets out an amused noise at the sight, “I knew Billy-boy taught you well. You’re going to have to do that for me one day, pet.”

The implications of that statement send a jolt of fear through Hughie. So much so that his own arousal flags for a moment. What does he mean by that? How long is Homelander going to keep him here as… a sex slave? He’d rather die.

Homelander notices his dying erection and tisks. “Now now. We can’t have that now can we? Poor baby. Let me help you with that Hughie.”

Hughie thinks for a moment that Homelander is going to jerk him off but his penis stays untouched. It’s when he wraps his lips around Butcher’s cock that suddenly a heavy and even hotter girth slides is way between his ass cheeks. Hughie gasps around the meat, saliva gathering at the corners of his mouth and dripping down the length of Butcher’s erection.

“Keep going, Baby,” the supe encourages him with a groan. “You’re doing great.”

Homelander only gives one or two experimental thrusts before he’s pressing into Hughie without warning. The unseen fat head pushing insistently against the ring of his anus. Hughie is in the middle of deep throating Billy when Homelander presses the entire length of his cock into Hughie all at once. It slots right into the space perfectly, hot flesh pressing up against his inner velvet walls. It’s so suddenly that Hughie lurches forward causing Butcher’s dick to slide half an inch further down his throat, choking him. Both Butcher and Homelander groan around him as they press deep into his pliant body.

“So tight,” Homelander growls. “So good, Hughie.” He pulls out barely an inch and then pushes back in firmly, pressing the head of his cock up against a wall.

Hughie hasn’t felt this full in a long time. He feels utterly trapped. Hanging off of one dick and stuck on another. He can’t move forward or backward without impaling himself further onto a cock. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Did he want to? His reptilian brain is saying no but deep down Hughie knows that he doesn’t want this. That is is being forced onto him and Butcher. Still, the pleasure is palpable and Hughie can’t help but writhe and whine as Homelander’s burning girth presses up so snuggly against his prostate.

Homelander begins thrusting in earnest, dragging his cock across every inch of Hughie’s inner walls. Hughie pulls himself off of Butcher’s cock with a wet plop and gasps, moaning all the way. Butcher himself lets out a frustrated groan at the loss of heat, but Hughie is quick to put his mouth right back over his arousal. As Homelander pounds into him from the back, Hughie takes Butcher all the way down to the base, nestling his nose into the older man’s coarse black pubes.

“Fuck- Hughie,” Billy groans. His eyes are still squeezed tight and one of his hands shoots out to grip at Hughie’s hair, tugging at it deliciously, as the older man holds on for seemingly dear life. “Fuck fuuck. Princesss- You feel so good.”

The scent of Butcher is overwhelming here and Hughie nearly starts sobbing in both pleasure and heartache. He’s missed Billy so much. Having his scent wrapped around him so fully and hearing Butcher praise him, even as another man fucks him from behind, is making his mind go dizzy.

“Ooooh-” Homelander groans. He digs his fingers into Hughie’s hips as he drives his own forward hard, as if he were trying to bury himself fully into Hughie. “So tight, baby boy.” He leans forward and uses both his hands to pull Hughie’s ass further into the space of his pelvis, and then slots his teeth over Hughie’s shoulder and bites down hard.

Or it must’ve been gentle for the supe because all it does is break the skin and cause rivulets of blood to come running down from the bite wound. Had the supe actually bit down hard, Hughie would probably be dead. He feels Homelander grin into his shoulder and then start licking the blood as he thrusts away.

Hughie’s entire lower half is starting to feel abused, but he can also tell by the speeding up and less regulated thrusts that Homelander is getting close. So he begins to bob his own head in earnest, determined to make Butcher cum before this is all over. He meets Butcher’s eyes, which seem to open instinctively, and Hughie tries his best to communicate that he wants to cum with Billy. He wants to cum together with him so badly.

His own pleasure is growing as Homelander’s thrusts become stuttered. Homelander groans loudly into his shoulder, loud enough to briefly muffle the sound of inconsistent flesh and flesh slapping and the wet sounds of Hughie working Butcher’s cock. Homelander gives another several thrusts and then buries himself deeper into Hughie than before and cums, groaning all the while. Hughie feels hot and sticky cum fill up his ass and, as Homelander pulls out, the cum comes out with the movement and begins dripping down his thighs.

It doesn’t stop Hughie from sucking off Butcher though. He continues to bob his head faster and faster while his hands wrap around the shaft and work it where his mouth can’t reach at this speed. Billy moans loudly and the sound alone is enough to send Hughie over the edge.

He cums just as Butcher’s cock twitches in his hands. Warm cum splatters the back of his throat and Hughie, as the diligent sub his is, swallows it all down all obediently while never tearing his gaze from Billy’s.

A moment later and Hughie collapses down in a boneless fucked-out heap, breathing heavily.

All three of them are breathing heavily.

Several minutes later, as the cum is drying on Hughie’s ass and thighs, he hears and feels Homelander get up, clean himself, and get dressed. A gloved hand runs over his sweaty brow affectionately, pushing the hair stuck to his forehead away, as Homelander lets out a satisfied but dark chuckle.

“Welcome to the family, Hughie.”


End file.
